Two

And now I'm sitting here, crying as hard as I can and wondering again and again why the hell I signed up and how I'm gonna survive all of this.

I mean… It's over. It's finally and really over. The toughest battle I had yet to fight. The battle that made me 1st Lieutenant and Captain in one. Everyone's cheering. Even those who lost friends. And that's basically everyone of us. But my friends are all alive, as I found out now. Danna. Magic. Xanas. Every-frigging-one of them.

And what am I doing? Sitting here, hiding behind some rock, crying? I know it's ridiculous. I was just made K-Company's CO – more than I ever thought I'd make in this war – and survived something no one ever thought I'd survive. And instead of cheering like anyone else, I'm sitting here crying so hard I'm shaking.

I don't even get it myself. Yes, I'm wounded – burns all over my body, probably busted a knee, stuff like that – but at the moment there's still the adrenaline and endorphins running high in my veins, so I'm not feeling a lot of pain. Why am I crying then, godsdammit?

It's not even that I saw combat for the first time. I did before – not like that, granted, but I'm still no rookie anymore. Blood, people screaming, people dying… been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. But not people I was responsible for. People I was supposed to lead in and mostly through combat. I did everything I thought I could. I kept as calm as possible. I didn't go all girly. I didn't freak out. I held a bastard's hand and pretended to be his mother. And yet he and all the others died.

The crying gets even harder. People under my command. Died. And I didn't even know all their names. How am I supposed to write the letters to all their families. Am I supposed to write those letters?

Pictures come back to me with a vengeance now. Tarkker getting hit by a plasma grenade, screaming in pain. Stormies appearing out of a tunnel, shooting 2nd platoon's First Sergeant and a number of other troopers right in the face. Grenades going off all around me, instantly killing my medic and my RO, but leaving me relatively unscathed. People dying. People I was responsible for… I draw my knees to my chest, hugging them tight with my eyes closed. Around the corner I can still hear people cheering. Breaking out in relief at a friend's return from the battle field, soldiers boasting with their exploits. All the stuff people do when high on adrenaline.

All I can think about are all those things I will maybe never shake off again. I'll never ever be able to think of Tarkker without remembering the feeling of his hand going limp in mine, and the shame of having the fleeting feeling of relief that it hadn't been Xanas' hand I had held. Plus my mind already starts getting into the "What the hell did I do wrong?"-wheel, turning over every scene and every fragment again and again to see whom I could have saved, who died…

I just want to find a hole, dig myself in and never come out again. I don't even want anyone else in there – not even Xanas. No, scratch that. Most of all not Xanas.

Something makes a beeping sound. Realizing only after a few seconds that it's my comm, I answer only with a weary "Yeah?", not trusting my voice to say anything more.

"Captain Melara?" News travel fast here, obviously, because that sounds like someone up in Command. Really didn't think they'd register the field promotion so fast.

"Yeah, that's me. What is it?" I just hope the static made it impossible for them to hear the choked note in my voice.

"We have deployed transport for your men. Get them to the coordinates we just sent to your pad. You are expected to be at the camp for a debriefing in one hour." Get them to the coordinates? I don't even know who's still alive and who isn't. And debriefing in one hour? How the hell am I supposed to get there?

I consider arguing for a short moment, but then my inner Private wins over and I only agree with: "Copy that. Melara out.", finally getting into business mode again.

But in the back of my mind I just can't shake off the feeling that today I finally lost a part of myself for good. A very important and irreplaceable part of myself. Just haven't figured it out what exactly it is yet.

A/N: Yes, I know. Probably a bit (eh... who am I trying to kid? Lots of more likely.) of wangst in this one, but... I'd like you to tell me if it's justified. Please?